


I'm Fine

by 206LazyBones



Category: Ghost - Mystery Skulls (Music Video), Mystery Skulls (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, F/M, M/M, Multi, OT3, ghost - Freeform, lots and lots of angst, mention of cutting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 12:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3977452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/206LazyBones/pseuds/206LazyBones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes "I'm fine" is someone's way of screaming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Do You Hear the Screams?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally started because of this post here: http://dontfeeddaelves.tumblr.com/post/111954561908/i-have-a-headcanon-that-since-ignoring-arthurs
> 
> And I liked it enough to make it a few chapters.

He was frozen on the cliff side, staring into the endless darkness below. His body felt cold and numb, paralyzed. A voice echoed in his head, laughing at him. Tendrils of green coiled around his limbs like a snake.

“They don't need you, boy.”

“That's not-”

“Oh, but it _is_. And you know it. They're back together. He hates you. He wants to kill you. And she...” a dark chuckled rebounded through his head, “and she has the man she _loves_ back.” The voice purred, low and throaty like a lover.

Tears sprung to his eyes. “No, she still-”

“Loves you? _Please_ , boy.” A purple figure materialized beside him, face a shadowed mask. “How could she love you when you pushed the man she loves to his _death_?” The purple figure slowly became deformed, a hole appearing in the chest, blood soaking the tattered vest. Tan skin grayed and shrunk to the muscular frame, glowing eyes appearing in the shadow beneath an unkempt pompador.

“Arthur....” Lewis' voice was twisted, hollow and grating. “Look at what you _did_ to me!”

“No no no! It wasn't my fault!”

“Oh but it _was_. See, if you had been _happy_ for them, like a good friend, you wouldn't have felt so... _envious_.”

The figure burst into magenta flame and morphed into a skeleton ghost. Only he was twisted, bigger. Boney fingers tipped in pointed claws, teeth in that lone upper jaw sharper, and horns curled back from the skull hidden with the flame hair.

“Lewis, I'm sorry! I'm so-”

“Sorry doesn't give me my life back, _murderer_.” The ghost moved closer, gliding inches off the floor to invade his space. “But I think an eye for an eye will be a good start for your punishment.”

“No! Wait-!”

A large hand shoved him and Arthur was falling, falling, falling...

He could see those magenta eyes glaring down at him, the ghost's laughter echoing in the cavern around him.

The green released him and the numb feeling left him all at once. He screamed as he plummeted, the dark closing in around him. He pawed at the air, desperately trying to grab something, anything. But it was for naught.

With a sudden jerk, he hit the bottom, scream cutting off as a spike burst through his chest and destroying his lungs. Tears leaked down his face as he tried to breathe, only managing to gurgle and choke on the blood that filled his throat. His chest was on fire. Every nerve screamed in pain and he struggled to pull himself up the slick stone impaling him like some sick carousel from Hell.

His strength was failing him and his arms dropped, unable to hold them up anymore.

_I'm so sorry..._

Arthur's eyes snapped open, heart racing, and jolted into a sitting position. His breathing was shallow and fast as his gaze darted about the room. Realizing he was in his room at Lewis' mansion, he sagged with a soft sob. He was safe. Sort of.

His flesh hand came up to cover his eyes and he drew up his knees, curling into himself. He had long since learned how to not scream when he woke.

He was reaching the edge of his limits. His mind was ready to leap from the cliff that would lead him to a complete mental break. His sanity and will were crumbling beneath his feet, and it was a fall he doubted he'd survive.

He couldn't remember the last time his smile was genuine. It was before Lewis'... accident. He put on a front, faking it, acting as if he was fine, even if he wanted to _scream_ for someone, anyone, to help him. He had no one to turn to. Vivi couldn't remember and was burdened by frequent migraines. Side effects of her amnesia; or so the doctors said.

Mystery was busy enough looking after Vivi. His master needed him more than Arthur. Or so the blonde believed. The no-dog was kind of preoccupied with her well being, barely paying him any mind. The few times he did, he was telling the blonde it wasn't his fault.

How could he believe that? The mechanic couldn't. The last thing his hand felt was Lewis' smart purple vest as he shoved him. If he hadn't been so weak, the demon wouldn't have been able to take him over so fast... He was to blame no matter what anyone said

Lewis lost his _life_ . He lost _everything_. All because of him.

Arthur sat there even after his tears had stopped, exhausted. He wasn't surprised. He never slept anymore.

With a resigned sigh, he slid out of bed and padded over to his desk, turning on the light. He might as well do something while he was awake anyway..

\-----

Lewis eyed Arthur as the blonde wandered into the kitchen, heading for the coffee pot. He was... different than Lewis remembered. Jumpier than a jackrabbit and more skittish than a baby deer. This was his killer? It threw the ghost for a loop, but he was still angry. And he had every right to be. Right?

The mechanic gave the ghost washing the dishes a wide birth, avoiding looking at him.

“You skipped breakfast. Again.” The tone the spirit used was accusing, making Arthur flinch.

He hated how everything he did made Lewis aggressive and angry. He didn't fight it, he deserved it, but it didn't mean he liked it.“I-”

“Good morning, Artie!” Vivi called as she pranced into the room, sliding across the floor with her sock-clad feet. “You missed breakfast. LewLew made _omelets and bacon_.”

The blonde stumbled and grabbed her shoulders when she slid into him. “B-be careful! Jeeze, Vivi-”

“Are you alright, Artie? You look a little pale... I mean, you're always pale, but...”

Arthur smiled, and Lewis narrowed his eyes. How did Vivi not see how fake it was? Usually she was so observant and noticed little things right away. What was he planning?

He released her and put a little more space between them. He always avoided touching if he could help it. He didn't deserve it. “I'm fine, I'm fine. I just need _coffee_. You know how I am in the morning. How's the noggin?” With practiced ease, he deflected her worry and changed the topic to her.

“Good! No headache this morning!” She beamed up at him, reaching for his remaining hand.

“That's great!” He moved away, turning to the cabinets to discreetly avoid her hand. “I know they're pretty horrible. Hopefully they stay away today!”

Lewis put the last pan in the drain board before turning to the young woman. “All done with the dishes, amor, as promised, we can go look over possible cases.”

With a delighted squeal, the bluenette jumped on the ghost who scooped her up in a bear hug. She giggled as he nuzzled his face into her, hands gently cradling the back of his skull. Oh how he made her heart pound! She always felt so breathless and giddy when he touched her. And going by how that golden heart of his, Lewis felt the same. It beat fast as it snuggled itself into her chest. She could feel each beat against her ribs.

Easily, the large man floated from the room with her in his arms, leaving Arthur alone.

Alone. He was always alone.

The smile slipped off his face, leaving a hollow expression behind. His body on auto pilot, he poured himself a cup of lukewarm coffee as he spaced out. Sipping at the bitter beverage, he wondered for the thousandth time: why was he still here? Neither of them needed him anymore. He could just... disappear and everyone would be better off.

Shifting the mug between his flesh hand and the prosthetic, he closed his eyes. Pretending... was getting harder and harder.

\-----

“I'm fine.”

This was a phrase Lewis was becoming more and more frustrated with. It was the same two words Arthur always said. More than any other phrase. The ghost was sure Arthur didn't used to say it this much. Or did he? Thinking back on it... he did say it a lot not too long after him and Vivi hooked up. And after that...

“Arthur. You just fell asleep in your sandwich.”

“I might have stayed up late, Vivi. I'm fine!”

“Artie-”

“Welp! Gotta go fill the van with gas for our trip tomorrow! I'll be back soon!” He practically teleported from the room.

The ghost, girl and dog shared a look. Well then.

\-----

Something was definitely not right. Lewis was sure of it. Arthur was starting to look like a raccoon and he hardly ate anything anymore. And he kept repeating his _I'm fine_ over and over and over like a broken record.

The whole time they were on that case... they had argued. Mystery had stepped in a few times to bring them all back to order. But it wasn't enough to repair the rift that was appearing. Was Arthur trying to tear them apart again?

The ghost slipped into the mechanic's room, determined to poke about while everyone was asleep. Maybe he'd find some clues.

Arthur's sleep was fitful, but sound, meaning now was his chance.

The desk was where he always did his work, so he'd start there. Nothing was immediately visible. It was clear of clutter, pens and pencils in their proper holders, no stray papers. Okay. On to the drawers, then.

He opened the top one and was... surprised. He picked up an orange bottle and read the label. A sleeping pill? Putting it back, he checked another. Anxiety meds. Anti-depressants. Anti-psychosis. Pain meds (this one was full). Arthur was on medications?

Brow ridges furrowing, the skeleton closed the drawer and searched the others. Blueprints, rulers, notes... Nothing hinted as to what was going on in that head-

Hold on. A sketch book? Curiously, he started flipping through it. All the drawings were in black in white. They were getting increasingly disturbing the more recent they got. He glanced at Arthur and put the book back, making sure everything was where it should be.

Slipping from the room, he decided he was going to find out what in the morning.

\----

Arthur cut himself. He needed relief from the pain. He was sliding into a dark hole and he didn't have the strength to pull himself out. He was coming apart at the seams. Any day now. Any day and he was going to unravel completely. He had to leave before then. Maybe today. He was causing problems being here.

Drying his spikey hair harshly, the blonde spaced out, zoning out. He didn't need to grab much. He'd leave the van. They needed it more. After all... They were going to need it for mystery solving.

A knock on the door startled him and he rushed to finish drying himself and get his boxers on. “Arthur? You've been in there an hour and a half. Are you alright?

“I'm fine.” It was automatic. He didn't even think about what he was going to say. Only after he'd spoken did he realize it was Lewis.

Vivi was out visiting her parents. She was sick of the arguing and wanted space. Her migraines were worse because of the tension and constant fighting between the two men. Since Mystery was her dog, she took him along with her.

“Like hell you are! Something is going on, and I want to know what.”

“N-nothing is going on! Can we talk l-later? You know, wh-when I'm not naked?” He was stalling and he knew it. He really didn't want to talk to Lewis...

“You have 5 minutes.” Came the grudging reply.

The smaller male drew out those 5 minutes, mind racing. How was he going to get out of this? Did he want to get out of this? He was falling apart and he was so _tired_... Tired of pretending. Tired of fighting. Tired of _living_.

“Time's up, Arthur.”

Sighing, Arthur pulled his shirt on over his head one-handed. He didn't feel like fighting with his prosthetic. “Yeah, okay.” He didn't want to risk Lewis' temper, so he unlocked the door and opened it willingly. If the ghost had to come through on his own, it would likely provoke him, and he was far too tired for that.

Lewis eyed him. Arthur looked... defeated. Shoulders sagging in his t-shirt and dull eyes refusing to look at him. “What is going on with you, Arthur?”

Arthur. It was always Arthur. He'd never be Art, or Artie. The ledge was crumbling. “Nothing. I'm-”

“Don't you _dare_ say you're fine!” the ghost snapped, noting the way the smaller flinched. “You're not fine, you're-” Lewis stiffened. It all suddenly made sense. The fake smiles, the bags under those tired eyes, the gauntness to his body, skipping meals, the _pills_.

Hesitantly Arthur spoke. “I'm... what?” So many things could fit. Worthless. Trash. Killer. Murderer.

“You're... Oh god.” Lewis felt sick to a stomach he no longer had. “You're not fine.” Glowing magenta eyes met amber and green. “You're suffering. This whole time you've- Oh god, oh god.”

“I... I-I'm....” He... didn't expect this. At all. What should he do? He's dealt with this alone this whole time... And now someone knew. The last person he wanted to have know, he might add. “You suffered more. I-I'm sorry. I'm fine-” The ground fell away and he was falling.

But strong arms caught him. He blinked at the black suit his face was pressed into, confused. How did he get here? Why was he here?

“I'm so sorry, Artie. I was so busy being angry with you. I never realized... every time you said you were fine... you were screaming for someone to help you.” Lewis tightened his embrace, curling around the small figure protectively. He still didn't trust Arthur, but suddenly knowing that his killer... his friend... was suffering so much... doused the anger. How had he let it cloud him?

“I-I don't... understand. You hate me. Y-you want me dead. Wh-why...?” Tears welled up and slipped down pale cheeks.

“I was a stupid, stupid ghost, Artie. I'm going to fix this.” Lewis closed his eyes. “I forgive you.” He had thought Arthur had been enjoying life, remorseless. But now he knew better. He had been tormented and broken. And he could feel it. The broken aura. Calling to him, singing promise of an easy host... Fuck. His very soul was fractured.

Arthur sobbed, remaining hand clutching the back of Lewis' suit as he nuzzled his face into the chest of his ex-friend. “I'm so-orry...! I'm sorry! I-I never wanted you to die...!” He was warmer than the blonde thought he'd be and smelled comfortingly of peppers and smoke.

“I know, Artie, I know.” They were no where near where they should be, but it was a start.


	2. Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, closer to the end I kinda derailed and forgot where I was going with this (ahahaha, working everyday at a stressful job does that). But eeeeehhhhh, I want to just get it posted so I can post the next chapter. I doubt I can save this train wreck.

Since that day in the bathroom, Lewis watched Arthur like a hawk. Every move he made was scrutinized and compared to his memories of the blonde. Did he always bury himself in work like that? Did he used to guzzle down an entire pot of black coffee in the morning? The more he watched him- sometimes discreetly, sometimes not- the more he picked up on things that were new. Things that were _wrong_.

Arthur was thinner by at least 20lbs and the bags under his eyes looked nearly permanent, as if they'd been there for years. All things considering, Lewis supposed they probably were. The signs lead him to believe that for some reason, Arthur didn't sleep much anymore.

New habits had manifested, and old ones grew worse. Not only did the blonde still pull on his hair, he _yanked_ on it. It was alarming how much violence he put into the action, almost like a self punishment. The ghost swore he's seen the prickle of tears in those dull eyes when the mechanic has tugged on the spikey strands.

Then there was the broken aura. Had it always been that way? He hadn't really paid too much attention. His amulet seemed to mask it mostly, but now that he knew about it, Lewis found he could pick it out so easily. When he brought it up to Mystery, the Kitsune said it was likely because the ghost had a high spectral level.

Lewis wondered wistfully if this was how vampires felt. The blood was there, just out of reach, but unable to have it. The scent driving them mad, but they reign themselves in because they _have to_.

Arthur's soul, his _body_ was so tempting. It was always there, teasing him with untold potential. If he wasn't careful, he found himself zoning out, nearly reaching for his soul. What started as watching Arthur's habits often ended with him fighting the desire to possessing him.

The worst part was: he was sure the blonde had noticed. Maybe he didn't know  _exactly_ what was happening with Lewis, but he knew something was up. Most of the time, when he snapped himself out of it, Arthur was staring back while clutching at the wrist on his metal arm.

Neither of them spoke about it.

“... Artie.”

The blonde jumped, tipping his chair with an unmanly shriek of fear as he flailed to try and catch himself. “Shit-!”

Lewis lunged forward and grabbed the back of the chair, holding it at the 120 degree angle he caught it at. That was close. “Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you.” The ghost peered down at the human as he clutched at his rapidly beating heart with his flesh hand, as if it would help slow the pulse. His own heart beat a distressed orange, mimicking the pace at which Arthur's raced.

Arthur shook a little, as adrenaline raced across his nerves from the scare. “Jeezus-” He went on to babble unintelligibly for a moment as he tried to collect himself. With a deep breath he got himself under control, and refocused on the ghost still supporting his chair like he weighed no more that a bag of Doritos. “... What's up, Lewis?”

“It's 4am.”

“... And?”

“Unless I've forgotten how living works, you need sleep.” Those glowing eyes remained locked on Arthur's as if daring him to argue. When the mechanic's mouth opened, Lewis spoke over him. “No. Don't even argue. Go to sleep. I've noticed the bags, Arthur.”

“I'm fi-”

“Don't. Don't you start that with me again.” Flame hair flickered, throwing up a single agitated spark. “You have bags anyone can see from a mile away. Don't you _lie_ to me.”

Arthur sighed tiredly, sagging into his chair. His remaining hand came up to run down his face tiredly. “I... can't sleep.”

“Can't, or _won't_?” Lewis challenged, form flickering like a candle before settling into his living appearance. He wanted Arthur to see his expressions. His mouth was set into a frown, brows furrowed.

“Both. Look. I don't want to talk about it, okay? I'm not...” He trailed off. He wasn't what? He lost his train of thought.

The ghost waited patiently and upon receiving no response for a good 3 minutes, he spoke again. “ You're not what?” His deep voice was calm, even. He didn't want to spook him anymore than he has at the moment

“Honestly? I don't even remember.”

“You just proved my point. You need to go to bed.”

“But-!”

“I'll give you a few minutes to get ready, but I'm going to come check on you, Arthur.” Lewis paused, waiting expectantly until Arthur sighed in defeat. Gently he lowered the chair back onto all 4 legs. “I mean it, Arthur.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

With a satisfied nod, Lewis floated away and phased through the wall. Arthur didn't once tease him about acting like a mom. It... hurt more than he wanted to admit that the blonde didn't even feel comfortable enough to banter with him. He yearned to have that back.

\-----

As he promised, Lewis came back and checked. Pleased to find the blonde in bed, the ghost went to check on his girlfriend, then Mystery.

Every 30 minutes, he made his rounds, starting with Vivi and Mystery then moving onto Arthur. He wanted to be sure they were all fine. Everyone was sleeping, breathing,  _alive_ . He was so scared he could lose them overnight if he didn't keep vigilante. If he didn't keep them close and under his watch.

And all was fine for the first 3 rounds, but on the 4th.. he noticed Arthur was caught in a nightmare.

The human was tossing and thrashing, whimpering as he tangled himself in the blankets. Soft unintelligible pleas hung in the air, sounding so lost. His broken aura shivered and flickered, weak and erratic. Fear saturated the air like some kind of car air freshener.

God it would be so easy to just... take him. Like plucking a grape from a vine. It'd be so easy to step inside, like slipping on a sock. He could experience living again. It'd be so easy to convince Arthur he owed him...

Lewis shook himself and found he had drifted closer without his notice. Fuck.

A soft sob had him leaning over Arthur, sad orange heart aching.

“L-Lew, I-I'm sorry...”

Combing large fingers through the blonde strands on Arthur's head, Lewis spoke softly. “I know, Artie. It's okay. Everything is okay.”

What was Arthur dreaming about? Clearly it involved himself. He could think of a million ways dreams about him could be nightmares, and Lewis hated every single one of them.

He was trying to let go completely, to try and make things the way they were, so seeing Arthur have nightmares about him... hurt. A lot.

As time ticked by, Arthur calmed, and Lewis remained by him all night, humming lullabies and murmuring comfort.


	3. Seize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Ifirit!Lewis belongs to http://charliessketchesandshit.tumblr.com/
> 
> I really hope I haven't botched him up too badly!

It came upon him suddenly, in the form of a sense of wrongness. His world felt off-kilter and his body unbalanced. His world bucked and pitched to the side and he felt dread stab his icy fingers into his gut. Oh _no_.

He scrambled, needing to get to the safety of his room. It couldn't happen here. Not where they could find him or he could hurt himself.

A shaking hand rushed to turn off the water for the shower and he stumbled out of the tub and onto the plush bath rug. As he reached his single hand for his towel, blond hair limp and dripping upon his shoulders, his world pitched to the right.

He didn't make it.

His eyes rolled back into his head as he collapsed.

\---

Lewis hummed to himself, the sound echoing as Deadbeats sang along merrily to the wordless tune. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his jacket lay draped over the back of the couch. A basket sat on the floor, blue clothing neatly folded into it, more of it scattered upon the coffee table.

He paused, eye sockets narrowing as he started at the t-shirt in his hands. Something didn't feel right. His heart shifted from its soft lavender to orange in it's place at his chest. It's beating became erratic and fell out of rhythm. Glowing irises flicked down to look at it. What was going on?

He tried to return to the laundry, finishing the shirt and putting it away in the plastic basket before the feeling became overwhelming. Discomfort crawled up his spine and he rumbled warningly from within his chest. But what was he warning? He wasn't sure.

Following an instinct that he wasn't aware he had, he took off, flying down the hall as fast as he could. He only paused outside the closed door for a moment before reaching out to touch the wood with his warm palms. He made contact for less than a second and then he was phasing through it and into the room.

His attempt at shouting for Arthur ended up as a guttural groan of distress.

Arthur was flailing about on the floor, eyes rolled back into his head. Frail limbs jolted and jerked, beyond his control. It looked like he his bladder had let go and he was gagging.

The ghost threw himself down beside him, large hands gently rolling him onto his side. He remembered faintly that you weren't supposed to restrain someone who was having a seizure, but he needed to keep Arthur from choking on his own vomit.

Leaning over him as if to shelter him from an attack, Lewis' hands hovered close to him. His distrust and lingering anger forgotten in the face of this invisible enemy.

With a rumbling growl, he leaned lower, broad chest nearly touching the mangled left shoulder of the living man. He couldn't protect Arthur from this and it frustrated him beyond words.

In what was only a minute, but felt like hours, Arthur's flailing started to calm to twitches. He moaned and whimpered, disoriented and sore. He didn't remember where he was or what was going on.

Recognizing it as being safe, Lewis gently lifted the blonde into his arms, cradling him as one does a new born. Hunching himself over the mechanic, his large fingers soothingly kneaded his scalp. Without his consent, his steadily, but rapidly, beating heart pressed into Arthur's bare chest.

By instinct, Arthur's flesh hand came up to cup the heart to his chest, not really understanding what it was or even what was happening. Bleary eyes opened to look up at Lewis, dull and unfocused. “... Lew...is...?” His voice thick and slurred, he struggled to form words with his vomit-tasting tongue.

Attempting to speak ended up with a mournful moan. Different tactic, then. He reached out, willing his words to be heard in Arthur's mind.

_'I've got you, Artie.'_ While he was surprised it worked, the ghost was relieved. He didn't want Arthur to be afraid right now. He wanted him to feel  _safe_ . ' _I've got you and you're safe. You're okay. Just breathe._ '

“.... you soun' funny.” The blonde head lolled to the left, leaning against Lewis' shoulder. His thumb absently rubbed at the heart he held close.

' _So do you, buddy._ ' Lewis hummed, eyes dimming a little. It felt nice. 

After a while his thumb suddenly stopped and his hand jerked away as if burned. “I-I'm sorry, Lewis. I-I didn't mean- I-I'll clean th-this-” The blonde shifted, trying to slip away.

The ghost mourned the loss of the caress. ' _No. You just had a seizure, Arthur. You couldn't help it. Let's clean you up. I'll worry about the mess later._ '

“I-I'm fine. Really.” Arthur's face burned with embarrassment. “It's m-my mess and-”

' _No. And that's final._ ' He huffed, spectral pompadour flickering and throwing up little flaming whisps and settling back into it's normal shape. Lewis stood, confident he won this argument. With the mechanic still tucked in the crook of one arm, he used a hand to wet a wash cloth in warm soapy water. Using far more care than Arthur thought he could, the ghost wiped him down, cleaning away bodily fluids while the blonde grumbled indignantly.

Satisfied he was clean, he grabbed an unused towel and shifted to work it around Arthur's hips to at least save him a little dignity. His orange heart still pulsed at Arthur's chest as he carried the exhausted human from the room. It relieved him that by the time he reached the blonde's room, he was already dozing, curled around the heart and snuggled into the ghost's warm chest.

Lewis floated inside to the blonde's dresser, collecting boxers and pajamas. Warm and comfy was the key. While Arthur weakly complained, he dressed him and tucked the small man into bed.

Unwilling to leave his side, the spirit settled himself on top of the comforter beside him and threw his arm over Arthur. With a soft rumbling thrum that sounded suspiciously like a little purr, Lewis bumped his cheek bone against Arthur's cheek. ' _Rest._ '

Too drained to fight or think much on Lewis' strange behavior, Arthur curled into the ghost and buried his face into his chest. He was easily lulled to sleep by the warmth, Lewis' scent, and that gentle beating of a Ghost Heart against his sternum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh, in case you couldn't tell, this is just gonna be a bunch of instances in which Lewis finds out Arthur isn't as fine as he says.
> 
> Also: this is a headcannon of mine. That Arthur has seizures. He used to have them less often, and after the cave... After the cave, the Green Demon fucked his brain up worse. He never told anyone about them, so the gang didn't even know before the cave.


End file.
